


Pacifica for Sale

by gravitiesfall



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, Pirate AU, i mean like one slight parapines reference but it's not very noticable, mabifica, no dipper ships, pacifibel, point is: if you want just mabifica this is for you, slow buildup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4574718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravitiesfall/pseuds/gravitiesfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pacifica bit her lip. Two whole weeks. Fourteen days of no Father, demanding her nonstop excellence. Fourteen days of no Mother, requiring her constant poise. Fourteen days of freedom, here in captivity. A break, per say. A vacation, even, from the exhausting hustle of a life she had. That couldn’t be so bad, could it? -- Mabifica pirate AU, where Pacifica is the rich heiress being held for ransom and Mabel is her sympathetic captor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I: Kidnapped

**Author's Note:**

> hi, whoever is currently reading this! all i really have to say is that updates are every thursday, i'm planning to have 10 chapters, and i hope you like my fic!

          Normally, Pacifica Northwest woke up to birdsong and morning light. Breaking glass and darkness? That was new.

          She rubbed her eyes blearily and sat up in bed. “Marie?” she called out, hoping her maidservant could explain why her beauty sleep had been interrupted. No answer.

          “Mar- _umph_!” Pacifica’s exclamation was cut off by a wadded piece of cloth being shoved into her mouth. She spluttered at the sudden greasy taste, the cloth effectively cutting off her sounds of protest. Hands roughly grabbed her upper arms and hauled her out of bed.

          “Mmph!” Pacifica grunted as she was forcefully propelled across the floor. She struggled against the iron grip on her arms, throwing out elbows and kicks at random, but her attacker was never within reach.

          _Correction_ , Pacifica thought. _Attacker **s**_. In the patch of moonlight by her shattered window, she could see two distinct forms. Both were taller than her, and lean. Their faces were unilluminated, but she could tell enough about their bodies to see that one was male and the other female.

          The duo hoisted her up onto the windowsill by the arms, then jumped up on either side of her. “I’ll go down the rope first,” whispered the boy, his voice surprisingly young-sounding. “Then, _Miss Northwest_ –“ here his voice became sarcastic – “you’ll slide on down. Nice and easy!” He resumed a normal tone. “Mabel, you go last so she can’t climb back up.”

          The girl saluted. “You got it, Dippin Dots!”

          The boy sighed, like he was used to being called strange nicknames, and nimbly hopped out the window, grabbed onto the aforementioned rope, and began to slide down.

          Mabel prodded her shoulder, just a little harder than playful, and said, “Your turn! Slide on down.”

          Pacifica turned to look at her, giving her kidnapper an _are-you-even-serious-no-way-am-i-doing-this_ stare. Mabel nodded encouragingly.

          “There’s always the other option,” Mabel said cheerfully. “And trust me, you won’t like it.”

          Pacifica shuddered and sat down on the window sill. She felt around for the rope, getting a good hold on it before tentatively beginning to descend.

          Above her, she saw Mabel climb out the window and rappel down the length of the rope, her flowy skirt billowing out around her.

          “Hey, hurry it up down there!” she said, catching up to Pacifica. “You climb like an armless siren.”

          Pacifica rolled her eyes, but climbed a little bit faster.

          It felt like hours before Pacifica touched the ground. She’d never realized just how tall seven stories was before. Scaling her house had given her a new appreciation for its height.

The boy glared at the two of them upon their arrival. “Could you two have climbed any slower? I waited forever.”

Pacifica fixed him with a glare. “Mmph mmph mmph,” she said, forgetting momentarily about the saliva-soaked gag still in her mouth. She made a sound of frustration and pulled it out, thankful for a moment of unrestricted movement. “If you’re going to kidnap me, at least do it with some _manners_ ,” she said angrily.

The boy scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to bring the velvet carpet for you to walk back to the ship on, will satin do? And my sincerest apologies for making you climb down a rope. We should have used the grand stairway.”

“You’ve got some real nerve, breaking into my bedroom and trying to kidnap me. I’ll have you know that the Northwest Mansion is guarded around the clock. I could literally scream for help right here, right now.” Pacifica’s eyes slowly brightened as the idea sank in. “Wait… I _could_ scream for help!” She cupped her hands around her mouth and began to yell at the top of her lungs. “HELP! I’M BEING KIDNAPPED!” She sprinted back toward the house at full tilt, still screaming. “HELP! HELP!”

Suddenly, a sharp pain registered on the back of Pacifica’s head. The ground teetered, then swooped towards her as the world faded and went black.


	2. II: Maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so since i already have posted chapters 1-4 on my tumblr (also gravitiesfall), i figured i might as well catch everything up on here. these chapters, however, are re-revised (is that a word?), so this is like, version 2.0 lmao

Pacifica woke with a gasp. She sprang up in bed, looking around wildly in frantic confusion. Her surroundings were completely unfamiliar: wooden walls, a tilting floor, and a triangular window framed with a dark metal. Outside, turquoise water splashed and rolled.

 _…I’m on a boat?_ Pacifica wondered, her racing heart beginning to slow. _This doesn’t look like Father’s. His is much more decorated._ She folded back the woven blanket covering her legs, smoothed her silk nightgown, and stood.

“W-whoa!” she said, stumbling slightly. She’d never actually been out at sea, and as she was quickly learning, it was a disorienting experience. A sudden rock made her trip and sit down hard on the bed.

 _I’ll just stay sitting for a while_ , Pacifica decided. _It’ll probably take little bit to adjust, and then I can walk, although running seems out of the question._

_Running. I was running._

Just like that, Pacifica’s memories of the previous night flooded back to her – the broken window, the two kidnappers, the scaling of her house, her fleeing and almost-escape.

 _This must be their base that they took me to,_ Pacifica thought. _But what kind of a person has their base on a ship?_

She thought for a second, then snapped her fingers. “Pirates,” she said aloud. “They’re pirates.”

As if on a cue, her door burst open and a girl strode into her room.  
“Goooood morning!” she sang.

Pacifica jumped. “Oh, sorry!” the girl said. “I didn’t mean to startle you or anything.”

Pacifica stared at her. First these people kidnapped her, then they started acting all nice? What kind of pirates were they?

The girl continued, oblivious to Pacifica’s stare. “I brought your breakfast. It might not be what you’re used to, but you’re on a ship, and it’s what we eat here.” She set a tray on the end of Pacifica’s bed, one of her brown curls spilling forward as she did. “I’m Mabel, by the way.”

 _Mabel._ Pacifica found her voice. “You were there – last night. You kidnapped me!” she exclaimed, voice rising.

Mabel made a face. “Sorry about that. We just-“

Pacifica laughed hysterically.  “Sorry? _Sorry_?! You kidnapped me from my nice room, in my nice house, with my—well, not nice, but rich  enough to make me stick around—family, from my nice life, that didn’t have crazy marauder girls prancing around messing everything up. _Sorry_ doesn’t quite cut it.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at the wall defiantly.

Mabel sighed. “Look, it’s not personal, okay? And besides, you won’t be aboard the _Mystery Shack_ for long—that’s our ship, if you didn’t know. As soon as Grunkle Stan sends your parents the ransom notice, which will be within a week, we’ll head back into port. And once your parents reply, it shouldn’t be much more than a week before we make the switch and you’re back to your normal life or whatever. That’s only two weeks. Practically no time at all!”

Pacifica lifted her chin. “I don’t need your—wait, how long now?”

“Two weeks?” Mabel said.

Pacifica bit her lip. _Two whole weeks._ Fourteen days of no Father, demanding her nonstop excellence. Fourteen days of no Mother, requiring her constant poise. Fourteen days of freedom, here in captivity. A break, per say. A vacation, even, from the exhausting hustle of a life she had. That couldn’t be so bad, could it?

“I guess… if it’s just two weeks, it might be bearable. Maybe,” she said grudgingly.

Mabel grinned. “Great! Hey, if you’re really good, I might give you a tour of the _Shack_. Maybe.” She winked, turned on her heel, and left Pacifica’s cabin, her skirt swishing behind her.

Pacifica sat and stared at the wall. “She’s… interesting,” Pacifica said aloud. Her stomach rumbled loudly, as if in agreement. Pacifica glanced at the tray Mabel had brought. On it sat a wedge of cheese and a biscuit. She reached over, grabbed the cheese, and took a bite.

_You know, I might go on that tour of the ship._

_Maybe._


	3. III: Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much to say for this one, except prepare for the crushing to start. ;;;;))))

          “You’ve gotta admit, it’s a pretty great ship we’ve got here,” Mabel said, gesturing grandly at the ship before them.

          Pacifica blinked at the sudden flood of sunlight, a contrast to her somewhat dim quarters. “I’ll get back to you on that when I can see,” she said grumpily.

          Mabel laughed. “You know, Paz, you’re pretty funny! Hey, can I call you Paz? Pacifica sounds so formal.” Without waiting for an answer, she plowed ahead. “Great! You’re the best, Paz. Now follow me!”

          Pacifica shook her head, sighed, and followed in Mabel’s wake.

          “Now, first off, we’re on the deck. You do know what a deck is, right?” teased Mabel.

          Rolling her eyes, Pacifica said, “Of _course_ I know what the deck is, Mabel. Do you take me for an idiot?”

          Mabel looked surprised. “Hey!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together excitedly. “You used my name!”

          “I, uh- well, yes, I did. What of it?” Pacifica said, raising her nose in the air.

          “Nothing, you just seemed – detached, I guess. Uncaring. But you’re really a big softie!” Mabel punctuated this with a poke to Pacifica’s side.

          Pacifica batted her hand away. “I am not!”

“Suuuuure,” Mabel said, smiling. “Anyway, we’re now approaching the quarterdeck, which is where we steer from. Right now, it’s my brother, Dipper, at the helm.” The pirate ran up a short flight of steps to where a young man that looked remarkably similar to her held the wheel. Pacifica trailed after her reluctantly.

“Dipper, may I formally introduce to you Paz? We’re calling her Paz now. She said it was fine, so it’s happening. Okay? Okay.” Mabel bounced excitedly around the boy.

“Mabel, could we not do this right now? I’m trying to navigate,” the boy said, not looking away from the horizon.

“Yes, what he said. Let’s go,” Pacifica said. Mabel was okay on her own, but she really didn’t need to associate with pirates beyond that. _And besides, wasn’t he the boy kidnapping me with Mabel? They sure sound similar, and that guy didn’t seem to like me too much._

The boy looked up sharply at the sound of her voice. “What are you doing out—Mabel, what is she doing out of her room?”

“I was giving her a tour of the ship!” Mabel said defensively.   

“ _Why?_ ” the boy asked incredulously.

“She seemed bored!” said Mabel. “Besides—“ here she quieted down, as if she didn’t want Pacifica to hear, despite their close proximity “—she isn’t half bad, Dipper. Maybe if you were nicer to her, you’d know that.”

Dipper sputtered. “ _Not half bad_? Mabel, she’s our prisoner! Our prisoner that we’re holding for ransom! There’s no reason to be making _friends_ with her!”

“Really, Dipper. I think she could use a friend. She was happy when I told her she’d be away from her parents for a while, I could tell. And she’s been – well, not nice, per say. Nice in her way, I guess, and never outright mean. Just… give her a chance, okay?”

Dipper sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll give her a chance. One chance, and that’s it.” He turned to Pacifica, sighed again, and reluctantly stuck out his hand. “Dipper Pines,” he said. “Nice to sort of meet you, I guess.”

Pacifica gingerly took his hand, shook it twice, and said, “Uh, likewise. I’m Pacifica Northwest, but you already knew that.”

Dipper turned back to the horizon. “Well, this has been great, but Mabel, I _really_ need to get back to steering.”

Mabel hugged him. “I understand. Bye, Dippity!” She bounced down the stairs, Pacifica trudging after her.

“Don’t call me that!” Dipper called after them.

The two girls walked in silence for about thirty seconds before Pacifica muttered, “Well, that could have gone better.”

Mabel shrugged. “It’s Dipper,” she said. “He’s my twin and my best friend, and I’ll always love him, but he takes a long time to warm up to people. We’re really different that way.” She looked a little sad for a second, then grinned at Pacifica and said, “Wanna see something really cool?”

Pacifica raised a pale eyebrow. “Sure?” she said, with some hesitancy.

“Follow me,” Mabel said, smiling deviously.

She ran to the nearest mast and started to scramble up the rope ladder leading to the top.

Pacifica’s eyes widened. “Mabel, no way am I climbing that,” she shouted up at the other girl’s steadily retreating form.

Mabel paused, let go with one hand, and swung around to look at Pacifica. “Come on!” she yelled, voice faint, and went back to climbing.

Pacifica sighed and started climbing.

Approximately five minutes later, Pacifica arrived at the top, out of breath from what she had considered to be a relatively fast scaling of the mast.

“What took you so long?” said Mabel, who was casually leaning against the rim of the crow’s nest.

Pacifica crossed her arms defensively. “I don’t exactly get climbing practice, cooped up in my tower at home.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do lots of climbing while you’re here!” Mabel said cheerfully. “Anyway, here’s what I wanted you to see.” She stepped aside and made a sweeping motion with her arm. “Isn’t it the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

In front of them, an enormous expanse of turquoise water glistened and rolled. On the horizon, a green stretch of land extended for leagues, and above them, the sky was a clear and beautiful blue.

Pacifica opened her mouth and, for once, was speechless. “Yeah,” she finally said. “Yeah, it is.”

Mabel shrugged, smiling as always. “I couldn’t imagine you got a ton of views like this in your tower. I thought you’d like it. And wait till you see it at sunset! Oh, it’s the best.” She turned back to the horizon and smiled wider.

Pacifica smiled, a small, wistful smile, and gazed at Mabel in silence. The sky, the sea, and Mabel – all three fit together into a picture of natural beauty, something Pacifica wished she could capture, a moment to keep. _This is definitely better than home._

_Oh. Oh no._


	4. IV: Convincing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dipdop and paz are gonna be great friends, just you wait. last chapter in the update spam! next one will come on next thursday, unless i decide to break schedule for some reason.

          Pacifica stared sullenly at the wooden ceiling. It was close to noon, and no one – not even Mabel, her most frequent visitor – had been to her room. Her stomach gurgled, as if to say, _And that means no food._ She turned onto her side and sighed. _Today has probably been the most boring four hours of my life._

 A knock issued from the other side of the door – three brisk taps. _Finally,_ Pacifica thought, swinging into a sitting position. _Although usually Mabel’s more creative, if she knocks at all._ “Come in,” she called out, smoothing her nightgown. She frowned down at a stain on the hem and turned to the door. “Hey, Mabel, could I have some…” Pacifica trailed off at the sight of a frowning Dipper in the doorway. “You aren’t Mabel,” she said slowly.

“Really?  So astute of you to notice,” he said in a deadpan voice.

Pacifica narrowed her eyes at him. “Look, can you tell me why Mabel isn’t here? She’s always been the one to bring my breakfast. I… kinda looked forward to it, actually,” Pacifica admitted. “She’s nice.”

Dipper’s unfriendly expression softened some. “Long argument short: she got caught,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Grunkle Stan saw you two out on deck together yesterday, and he was _not_ happy about it.”

“What?! Why? I didn’t do anything wrong, right?” Pacifica asked worriedly. “Is Mabel in trouble with him? It wasn’t her fault. Well, it kind of was, but she shouldn’t be punished!”

“Calm down,” Dipper said, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “Jesus, you’re more defensive of Mabel than I am. She’s in trouble, yeah, but the only real consequence is that she’s not allowed to bring you meals anymore. Grunkle Stan thinks it’ll be too much of a temptation for her to talk to you more and ‘get dangerous ideas.’”

Pacifica scoffed. “Like what, the idea to let me out of here once in a while? He can’t be serious.”

Dipper shrugged. “Usually he would’ve caved to Mabel by now on this – he can’t say no to her – but he hates losing profit, and if you managed to escape, he’d lose a _lot_ of profit, believe me.”

Pacifica groaned and flopped facefirst onto her cot. “Great. First I get kidnapped, then I’m off limits from the _one_ _nice person_ on this entire goddamn ship because I’m about to be bought and sold like cattle.” She groaned and knocked her head against the mattress. “Could this get any worse?”

The end of the mattress sunk a little as Dipper sat on it. “Hey,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry about this. But… we’re pirates. This is how we make a living. Mabel always gets too attached; she should know by now not to buddy up to prisoners, cause it upsets her every time they leave.”

Pacifica turned her head to peek at him through one eye. “I’m… not the first person you two have kidnapped?” His words had sent a little spike of _something_ through her stomach, something nervous and upset that made her feel overlooked.

Dipper smirked. “You think we would’ve had such a clean kidnapping if you were the first? I mean, there was that whole knocking-you-out-with-a-shoe-cause-you-escaped thing. But trust me, that was not our messiest by _far_.”

Pacifica sighed. “And here I was feeling special because I thought I was the only one,” she said, halfway serious.

At that, Dipper actually laughed. “Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re the only one Mabel snuck out of their room and gave a tour to. I think that counts for something.”

“Flattering,” Pacifica said with a small smile, although that information did give her a twinge of satisfaction. Maybe she was Mabel’s favorite after all.

She shook her head a little. _Where did that come from?_ she thought, as if she didn’t know exactly which troublesome part of her brain was whispering that to her. As if she didn’t know exactly what was going on. _I can’t afford to feel this away about a kidnapper pirate girl that I’ll never see again after the two weeks are up!_ she thought desperately.

“Besides,” Dipper said, jarring Pacifica out of her thoughts. “Mabel will find a way to convince Grunkle Stan. I know it. So don’t worry, okay?” He elbowed Pacifica in the back. “And until then, you know, if you really get bored, you can always talk to me.”

Pacifica turned over to look at Dipper. “Really?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Really,” he said, and smiled a small smile.  He set down the tray on the end of her bed and left the room, and once more, Pacifica was left staring at the doorway.

 _Who knew Dipper could be nice?_ Pacifica thought, shaking her head. A smile crept onto her face as she closed her eyes and hoped Mabel got around to that convincing soon.


	5. V: Deep Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update, this chapter took way longer than expected to write and i ran out of time! anyway, enjoy!

Relieved didn’t even begin to describe how Pacifica felt when Mabel skipped through her door the next day.

          “Mabel!” she exclaimed, stopping in the middle of pacing her cabin and rushing over to the pirate.

          Mabel’s grin lit up her whole face. “Paz, I’m so glad to see you!” she said, reaching out and hugging Pacifica tightly.

          Pacifica tensed up, caught off guard. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tentatively reached out and hugged Mabel back.

          She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, a small smile appearing on her face. It felt like hours, standing there in Mabel’s arms, smelling cinnamon and salt with each inhale. _Is this what all hugs are like?_

          Mabel stepped back and held Pacifica at arm’s length. “I missed you!” she said. “It was so boring not being able to come see you. Grunkle Stan was kinda mad that I let you out.”

          “I heard,” Pacifica said. “Dipper came in yesterday and told me the story.”

          Mabel’s eyes widened. “Yeesh,” she said. “How mad was he?”

          “At you? Not at all. He was actually pretty nice to me,” Pacifica admitted. “Hey, wait – did your… uh, grunkle or whatever? Did he lift the ban on coming to see me, or…”

          Mabel laughed. “Of course not, silly! He doesn’t give up that easily. Not even with me.”

          “So… you’re breaking rules to come see me?” Pacifica frowned worriedly. “Aren’t you gonna get in trouble?” She glanced around the room. “And what if he has people watching you to make sure you don’t come see me? Mabel, I don’t think you should be here.”

          To Pacifica’s surprise, Mabel started laughing.

          “What?” Pacifica said. “Mabel? Mabel! Aren’t you worried at all? What’s he gonna do if he catches you?”

          Grinning, Mabel said, “Pacifica, meet my guard.” She stepped just outside the door and yelled, “Hey! Wendy! Over here!”

          A tall redheaded woman stepped into the room. Twin sabers were slung at her sides. “What’s up, Mabel?” she said, leaning against the wall.

          “Paz, meet Wendy,” said Mabel. “Wendy, meet Paz.”

          Wendy saluted.

          “Wendy is my guard,” Mabel explained. “She’s _supposed_ to keep me from visiting you. But she’s cool with it. It helps that me and Dipper have been friends with her since we were like 12 and first joined the _Mystery Shack_ , but mostly she really doesn’t care about following orders.”

          Pacifica raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure this is fine? I mean, I don’t even want to think about what would happen if I tried this at home.”

          “Positive,” Mabel said. “Now let’s go loot the kitchens. I’m hungry.” She grabbed Pacifica’s arm and pulled her out of her room and into the sunlight.

          “Is everything so weird around here?” Pacifica muttered, mostly to herself.

          Wendy chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. You just have to roll with it.”

          Mabel shushed both of them. “We have to be quiet and stay belowdecks for now,” she stage-whispered, gesturing for them to follow her. “Grunkle Stan is navigating for a little bit longer.”

          They crept along a narrow passageway. Every few yards, there was a doorway. Sometimes they had doors, but more often than not, there was simply an opening into the room beyond. There were rooms full of barrels and sacks, rooms with rows of hammocks, and even a room with several chests, all labeled in a messy scrawl and all locked.

          After about five minutes of this silent tour, they came to a stop in front of another room with no door. In this one, a large man in green stirred a pot.

          Mabel turned to Wendy and Pacifica and put a finger to her mouth. “I’ll handle this,” she whispered. She swung back around, straightened her back, and ambled into the room.

          Pacifica peeked around the corner. _How’s she going to convince him to give her food? Our cooks would flip their shit if I asked them for anything._

“Hey, Soos!” Mabel said. “I’m gonna take some stuff, okay? Wendy and I are having a picnic.”

          “Sure, dude!” the man – Soos? – replied. “Just don’t take it all!”

          Mabel gasped, fake offended. “Soos! I would never!”

          She emerged shortly afterward, carrying a lumpy bundle of cloth. “Now to make it up to the crow’s nest without being spotted,” she said, smiling a mischievous smile.

          They went back the way they’d came, and shortly after they passed Pacifica’s room, they came the staircase that Pacifica knew would bring them to the top deck.

          “Wendy, is the coast clear?” Mabel asked, turning to the redhead.

          Wendy ran up the stairs and surveyed the deck, looking for all the world like a prairie dog poking its head out of its burrow. She turned back to Mabel and gave a thumbs up.

          Mabel mounted the stairs, Pacifica right behind her.

          “On the count of three, we make a break for the nearest mast,” Mabel said. “Wendy, you stay below and keep lookout.” She reached back and gripped Pacifica’s left hand tightly. “Ready?”

          Pacifica nodded tightly, her heart already pounding.

          “One, two, three!”

          Hand in hand, they sprinted for the mast. Pacifica’s heart sped up even more, her feet pounding out a steady rhythm for it to follow. She glanced over at Mabel, who, true to form, had a huge smile on her face. Pacifica couldn’t help but smile back, a breathless laugh escaping her as they neared the mast.

          “Now climb!” Mabel said, pushing her to the ladder. “Go, go go!” _She’s laughing too,_ Pacifica realized as she scaled the mast, and grinned.

          They reached the top in record time, flopping down at the top in a heap of panting giggles.

          “Did- did anyone spot us?” Pacifica said through her laughter.

          “I sure hope not!”

Pacifica leaned against the wood rim of the crow’s nest and tried to regain control of her breath. “That was… that was probably the most fun I’ve ever had,” she said.

Mabel sat up and scooted over to sit next to her. “More fun than your fancy rich-girl parties?” she teased. “More fun than your fancy rich-girl embroidery? More fun than being cooped up in your tower, even?”

“A million times more fun than those things,” Pacifica said honestly, smiling at Mabel. “Hey, what did you do with that food? I’m kinda hungry.”

Mabel grinned and reached down her bodice, pulling out the bundle. “Ta-da!” she said, sounding ridiculously proud.

Pacifica laughed. Her cheeks were starting to get sore from all this smiling, but she really didn’t care. _Who cares if it hurts? This is the happiest I’ve ever been. I’m not missing out on this._

Mabel unwrapped the bundle, producing wedges of cheese and a loaf of bread. Pacifica grabbed a hunk of cheese and began to eat.

“Someone was hungry,” Mabel teased.

“I didn’t get any breakfast until now!” Pacifica protested, her mouth full of cheese.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mabel said, poking Pacifica’s stomach. “I’m not just gonna sit here while you eat all the food. You have to reward me for this.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes, although for once there was no malice in it, and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. “How can I appease you, O Great and Mighty Mabel who brings me food?”

“Tell me something about yourself,” said Mabel, propping her chin on her hand. “I don’t actually know a lot about you.”

“Well,” Pacifica said, still chewing, “my favorite color is pink.”

Mabel hit Pacifica’s shoulder lightly. “I love pink!”

“It’s just so pretty and bright and cheerful,” said Pacifica. _Like you,_ she added in her head.

“Tell me something else,” Mabel suggested.

“Um… I had never left my house except to go to parties and stuff before this.”

“What?” Mabel gasped. “You’ve never, like, been in a city? Or to a market? Have you ever seen a larger body of water than your bathtub?”

“Mabel, we’re on a ship right now,” Pacifica pointed out. “Of course I have.”

Mabel glared at her. “I meant before this, doofus.”

“Yeah,” Pacifica said. “Once my father had a party on his boat. That was the farthest from home I’ve ever been.”

“Why didn’t you sneak out or anything?” asked Mabel, sounding puzzled.

Pacifica dropped her gaze. “Let’s just say my parents wouldn’t be too happy if I snuck out,” she said quietly.

Mabel’s face scrunched up in sympathy. “Oh, Pacifica,” she said gently, placing a hand on the other girl’s knee. “Look, I’m really sorry. I can tell your parents weren’t great to you, and they’re jerks if they make you feel that sad.”

Pacifica looked up at Mabel and smiled a little at her concern. “Thanks, Mabel,” she said. “Honestly, I kind of hope I never have to go back to them. I know it’ll never happen, but I can dream, right?”

Mabel looked thoughtful. “Never have to go back… Paz, I’ve got it!” Pacifica looked at her, confused. “You can stay onboard the Mystery Shack and be a pirate with me!”

“That sounds pretty great,” Pacifica admitted with a laugh. “But how are you going to convince your uncle to let me stay on? Doesn’t he, like, really want his ransom money?”

Mabel waved a hand in the air. “I’ll think of something,” she said confidently. “Now, where were we?”

“You should tell me something about yourself,” Pacifica said, picking up another wedge of cheese. “It’s totally your turn.”

“Okay,” Mabel said. She took in a deep breath, then said, “I really – wait, do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Pacifica said, cocking her head. Sure enough, there was the sound of shouting from the ship’s deck. The voice was deep, gravelly, and furious. “Who’s that?”

Mabel turned around and peered over the rim of the crow’s nest. “Oh no,” she whispered, sounding horrified.

“What? What is it?” Pacifica looked over the edge. Far below, she could see a man glaring up at them. Both his jacket and pants were black, but his hat was brightly colored, vividly red and gold. “Mabel?” she repeated. “Who’s that?”

          “That,” Mabel said unhappily, “is Grunkle Stan. And we just got caught.”


	6. VI: Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm super sorry about the late update, everyone! just had one of those days where i couldn't do anything and felt really sucky and blargh  
> SO YEAH here is 6! i hope you like it! (also, to the person who asked for stan interaction: this chapter's dedicated to you, cause you inspired a good bit of it! thanks for being amazing!)

“Caught?” Pacifica repeated, her stomach sinking to her toes.

          “Caught,” affirmed Mabel. “Don’t worry. It’s Stan. He’s just gonna bluster around pretending to be mad until we apologize, and then he’ll let us off with a warning, which we’re going to ignore. It’ll be fine.”

          Pacifica looked back over the rim of the crow’s nest. Below, Stan was pacing back and forth, gesturing angrily. Wendy stood near the mast, looking cowed.

          “His anger seems pretty real to me,” she muttered.

          Mabel dropped onto the ladder. “Come on, Paz,” she said. “We might as well get this over with.”

          Pacifica descended as slowly as she could. When her parents got angry, they locked her away in her room for days on end. If the most cultured couple in Britain would deny their only daughter food, water, and company for forgoing a petticoat, what punishments would a pirate captain dream up for ignoring his express orders?

          When she got to the bottom, Stan was mid-rant. “—want us to lose the biggest sum we’ll ever get? What if she had jumped overboard? We aren’t too far from shore, and plenty of ships cross through these waters. Mabel, are you even listening to me? Mabel! We need this money!”

          “And Pacifica needs a home!” Mabel said vehemently.  “Please, at least think about it.”

          Pacifica wrinkled her nose. _What is she talking about? I have a home._

          Stan snorted. “What are you talking about? She has a home.” _That’s what I’m saying!_

          “Not a real one! Did you know her parents don’t let her out of the house? They mistreat her, I’m sure. Dipper told me that when he told her you got mad at me, she freaked out and started yelling for you not to hurt me and stuff. She tries to keep her guard up, but I can see that she’s actually happy when she’s here, away from her horrible parents. We can’t take that away from her. You can’t just force her back to that kind of life!”

          It was like someone had hit her with a shovel.

          Everything that Mabel had just said about her was true. Every single thing. She worked so hard to cultivate her uncaring façade, and Mabel had dismantled it in seconds. Was she really that transparent? Somehow Pacifica doubted it. No one had ever figured her out like that before. Hell, most of those things she hid from even herself, ignoring them to the best of her ability. Mabel just had a way of reading people, of looking at them and understanding. 

She almost missed Stan’s response, jerking herself out of her thoughts in time to hear, “Kid, I’m sorry. But we really need that ransom money.”  
          “What if she stayed on with us?” Mabel pleaded. “I could teach her to shoot, and I’m sure she knows lots of stuff that could help us earn the money back!”

“You were serious about that?” Pacifica asked, volume barely above a whisper. Mabel’s idea had been nice, but Pacifica hadn’t expected it to actually be a genuine offer.

“Of course!” Mabel said, turning toward her. “Paz, I don’t wanna force you into anything. But wouldn’t you be so much happier here with us?”

“I…” Pacifica paused. _I can’t just stay here. That would never work out._

 _Why not?_ murmured a little voice in the back of her head. _Why couldn’t you stay here? What’s stopping you?_

_My parents would come looking for me! And… and… I don’t have any clothes here, except this nightgown, and…_

_Would they?_ the voice asked doubtfully. _You could deal with them if they did. And your clothes? That is no excuse. _Here the voice sharpened, sounding a little like her mother. _Pacifica, that’s completely trivial. Someone could make new clothes for you, I’m sure. Or,_ and suddenly the voice was Mabel’s, _you could try making your own clothes. If you’re gonna be a pirate, you’re gonna have to get used to doing stuff on your own!_

_It would be really different, that’s for sure. But… a good different, I think. Mabel was right – I’m happiest here._

_Well, I guess that’s all there is for it. I’m going to be a pirate._

Pacifica took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sure,” she said. “Yeah. I’ll join your crew.”

Mabel clasped her hands together and twirled around, her skirt swishing out around her. “Hooray!” Abruptly, she stopped spinning and launched herself at Pacifica. “Paz, I’m so happy for you! We’re gonna climb the masts, and I’ll teach you to shoot, and—and—“ She pulled back just enough to look Pacifica in the eyes, brown on blue. “This is gonna be amazing!”

Pacifica stared at Mabel and managed a small, breathy laugh. Their noses were barely touching, and Mabel’s hands were on her cheeks, cupping her face. Her stomach was a mess of nerves and happiness and _she’s so close soso close I could kiss her right now oh my god ohmygod—_

Stan coughed. Pacifica yanked back, her cheeks aflame. Mabel backed up a little (was she blushing, or was that just wishful thinking?) “Uh… yeah. I’m… really excited too,” Pacifica said, smiling at the ground. “I mean, as long as it’s okay with your great uncle and everything.”

“Grunkle Stan, _please_?” Mabel said earnestly. “We could earn all the money back, I know it.

Stan frowned. “Well…” he said, sounding defeated, “if it’s really so important to you, I guess I could allow it.”

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” It was Stan’s turn to be tackled now, and he staggered under Mabel’s weight.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said gruffly. It was obvious he was trying not to smile and failing miserably. “But _only_ if the ransom is an amount you can make up, you hear me?”

Mabel nodded vigorously. “Got it, Captain Stan!”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Alright, now back to whatever you two miscreants were doing. I’ve got merchants to attack.”

“I’ll just… go…” came a voice from behind them. Pacifica turned to see Wendy edging away. _Oh, right. She was supposed to be lookout. That worked out well._

“Not so fast,” Stan barked. “I’ve got some words for you too.” Wendy backed up more, looking alarmed, then broke into a run, dashing belowdecks.

“ _Wendy_!” Stan bellowed, and sprinted after her. Below Pacifica’s feet, she could hear a sharp clattering, like boots on wood, as Wendy tried to escape.

“Uh… is Wendy going to be… okay?” Pacifica asked. Back at home – _but that wasn’t her home now, was it?_ – a servant would be fired for that kind of insubordination.

“Of course,” said Mabel. “She and Stan do this a lot.”

Pacifica raised an eyebrow. “Okay then.”

Mabel smiled. “So. Now that you’re gonna be part of our crew—“

“Only if we can make up the ransom,” Pacifica interjected.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be able to, I know it! Anyway, you’re gonna need to know how to shoot, and what to do in case of a raid, and probably some clothes, huh?”

“Where do you guys even get clothes? Do you have, like, a tailor on board or something?”

“Well, I’m kinda the stand-in tailor,” Mabel said. “I make most of the clothes and patch everything up. I’m pretty good at sewing and knitting and all that, if I do say so myself.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Mabel just seemed like the kind of girl who would be effortlessly good at anything she tried.

Mabel didn’t say anything in return, just looked at Pacifica with a gentle, dreamy kind of look on her face. Pacifica glanced to the side, then back up at Mabel. She was still staring. _Do I have something on my face? Is she just blanking out? What do I do?!_

Pacifica cleared her throat. “Um, Mabel? You’re kind of staring at me.”

Mabel shook her head, seeming to come back to reality. “Sorry! I was just… Uh, your eyes are really pretty.”

Pacifica blushed and looked at her hands. “Thanks.”

Mabel suddenly clapped her hands together. “I’m just so excited! This is going to be amazing. Oh, I’ll have to introduce you to our crew! You know what, let’s do that now!”

Pacifica smiled and let herself be pulled along. _I can’t believe it. I’m going to stay on! I’m going to stay with Mabel._

_This is going to be amazing._


	7. VII: Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, sorry that this chapter is so short. HOWEVER. i might update the next chapter early? plus, next chapter is... i can't say anything yet. just imagine that gif of rihanna winking and twisting her hand.

_This is terrible._

          “I—I don’t understand,” Pacifica said, knotting her hands in her hair. “I can’t stay on? Why?”

          Dipper sighed heavily and leaned against her wall. “Grunkle Stan got your ransom note back. They promised ten thousand pounds.”

          Pacifica rolled her eyes. “That’s like, the cost of three parties. They were being cheap, trust me.”

          “Well, that cheapness is gonna set us up for the rest of our lives.” He laughed bitterly. “You should have seen Stan’s eyes light up. Money is his only motivation.”

          “Isn’t there anything we can do?” Pacifica asked, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. “I mean, it can’t be _that_ hard to make up ten thousand pounds. Right? Dipper! Right?”

          “Look, Pacifica. I’m really, really sorry. I’ve seen how happy you make Mabel, and honestly, you’re not bad company. But Stan won’t budge, and I almost don’t blame him. We’ll likely never get a chance this good again.” He stared at the floor, looking almost ashamed in the gray light filtering through her window.

          Pacifica opened her mouth to protest and found herself speechless. Her chest felt as if it was collapsing in on itself. She tried again to speak, but her throat tightened, letting out only a gasping exhale. _Well, I guess that’s it. That teaches me to hope._

Her eyes were filling, and she squeezed them shut against the flood she knew was coming. _Don’t cry. You knew this wouldn’t last. Pacifica. Don’t cry._

          The tears came anyway.

          They traced gentle trails down her face, soothingly warm. _It’s alright,_ the tears seemed to say. _Let it out._ Save for a few dry sobs, the tears came silently, dripping down her chin. Her cheeks felt sticky and damp, as if she’d been in the pouring rain outside, and she welcomed the wet feeling. Deep breath, let it out. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. The tears began to slow.

          Her bed sank a little as Dipper sat down. He reached out, slowly, tentatively, and patted her back. “I’m sorry, Pacifica, I really am. Mabel’s been crying all day too. I wish we’d been able to convince Stan, but he’s really stubborn.” He laughed weakly. “Sure would be cool if there was a way for you to stay on and we still got the ransom.”

          “Yeah,” Pacifica said. “Sure would be.”

          Dipper’s expression shifted from comforting to thoughtful. “Wait a second. There _is_ a way. There are actually a lot of ways. I—yeah, I think—“ He stood and began pacing. “I mean, we’d have to convince Grunkle Stan, but if we played our cards right—yeah, I think we could do it!”

          Pacifica stood too, compelled to her feet by what Dipper was suggesting. “Wait. You have an idea for how I could stay on? I could—I could be with Mabel? And you, and Wendy, and – well, I don’t know about Stan, but – I could stay here? You think it’ll work?”

          “Yeah,” said Dipper, turning to her. His face was alight with excitement. “I think it’ll work.”

          “Well, what is it?!” Pacifica asked, unable to curb her elation.

          “Well, before I tell you, we need to get Mabel. She’ll kill us if we plan this without her,” Dipper said. “But trust me, this is a good plan. I mean, it’s worked before.”

          “What do you mean, it’s worked before?”

          Dipper grinned. “Well, we kidnapped you successfully the first time, didn’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((fun fact: originally i had planned to have paz figure out a plan, but dipdop is too smart to not think of something, so i changed it! also, 10,000 pounds then is like $1,000,000 now))


	8. IIX: Be Ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god, guys, i am SO SORRY about not updating for so long. school and stuff just caught up to me, and i was zapped for time and motivation. now, though, i have the google docs app on my phone, so hopefully i'll be able to update much sooner for next chapter! sorry again! expect the next one anywhere between a week and three weeks from now.

“If this doesn’t work, I swear I’ll kill you.” They stood on the deck of the Mystery Shack together, Dipper, Mabel, and Pacifica. A few hundred yards away, one of the Northwests’ smaller ships sat waiting. A dinghy was making steady progress across the water, carrying a single member of their crew and the ten thousand pounds.

Dipper laughed nervously. “No, no, it’ll work. We’ve planned for every possible contingency. Nothing will go wrong.” He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself – Pacifica wasn’t reassured.

Mabel smiled hopefully at her, eyes still a little red, and grabbed Pacifica’s hands, enclosing them in her larger ones. “Yeah, Paz! We’ll see you soon. Tonight.”

Pacifica stared at the ground. “You’re sure?” she said quietly. “You won’t just, I don’t know… leave me waiting? Staring out the window looking for someone who never comes?”

“Pacifica,” Mabel said, and put a hand under her chin, forcing her to look into Mabel’s eyes, “we will come to get you. We won’t keep you waiting. I will see you again.”

Looking into Mabel’s eyes, warm and brown and swimming with hope, Pacifica could believe it. Right now, anything seemed possible. If Mabel had said that she could fly, she would have listened and spread her wings. It must have been just another of Mabel’s million talents, the ability to reassure and empower – the ability to make her want to keep going. “Promise?” Pacifica asked quietly.

Mabel’s eyes crinkled up in a smile. “Promise.”

Pacifica glanced down, stomach fluttering, then impulsively reached up and pulled Mabel down into a kiss. Mabel’s lips were chapped, tasting of salt and strawberries. Pacifica melted a little at the heat coming off Mabel. She didn’t want to stop. She never wanted to stop. But she forced herself away, pushing Mabel back and whispering, “Just in case.”

Mabel gawked at her, eyes wide and mouth open. She reached out with one hand, to do what Pacifica didn’t know, and said, “Pacifica, I—“

Dipper cleared his throat. “Guys, it’s really nice that you finally figured out that you’re basically in love and all, but the boat is here.” He stood with one hand on a rope ladder cast over the side, nailed into the wood.

 _Did he do all that while we were… er, talking?_ Pacifica flushed at both the thought and Dipper’s implication. Shaking her head, she stuttered, “Right. Uh. Yeah. I’ll go now.” She turned, looked at Mabel, and opened her mouth, but words failed her and she closed it. “I—I’ll see you again. Tonight, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, she jumped over the side and began descending, Dipper close behind.

She tried to go as slowly as she could, making each rung last several seconds before moving to the next one. It felt as though she was being sent to the gallows – these were the last moments here, her last moments of freedom. She would have to survive on memories and the hope of rescue for the next hours – maybe the next years, if the plan failed. Maybe she would wait, wait for days in vain, just to realize after a week that something had gone wrong, and that her chances had disappeared in a cruel _poof_.

Pacifica’s foot hit the front of the dinghy, causing the boat the jostle in the water. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw the boat. A wary looking man in Northwest purple sat with a hand on a bulky burlap bag.

“Alright.” She stepped onto the boat cautiously, moving aside to give Dipper room. “I...suppose this is it.”

Dipper nodded stiffly, eyes darting to the servant in a subtle reminder to not raise any suspicion. “The money?”

The servant swallowed noticeably under Dipper’s cool gaze. “It is here.” He turned to the right and picked up the bag, holding it out in a slightly shaking hand. Taking the bag in his right hand, Dipper opened it with his left and peered inside. Apparently satisfied, he nodded and reached for the ladder, getting a secure foothold before beginning to climb.

Pacifica folded her nightgown under her and sat firmly on the grainy wooden bench. The servant began to row. _I will get back to them. They’ll come for me. I know it. And when they do --_ Pacifica chanced a glance behind her. Mabel still stood on the deck, Dipper to her right. From so far away, it was hard to tell exactly what Mabel did. But Pacifica was sure that the other girl blew a tiny kiss in her direction.  _When they do, I’ll be ready. And I’ll never have to look back._


	9. IX: Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY JESUS FUCK THIS TOOK ME SOOOO LONG TO UPDATE IM SO SORRY. this chapter is twice as long as my previous longest, so hopefully that somewhat makes up for it?? idk i hope you like it!

Waiting was agony.

Pacifica stared out the window, her chin on her hand, and searched the horizon for something, anything. At another time, she might have appreciated the view: fluffy salmon clouds drifting through the sky overhead as countless servants milled about the vast grounds of the Northwest Estate. But right now, the gorgeous scenery had no place in her thoughts. No, her mind was filled with worry, twisting her thoughts into a messy ball and shortening her breaths. Half-made plans danced in the back of her head, shoving hope into her heart and adrenaline into her limbs. 

A knock sounded at her door. “Come in,” Pacifica called, hoping her voice wasn't wavering.

Marie poked her head through the door. “Miss,” she said, coming in farther and dipping into a quick curtsy. Her matronly face was set in an expression that, although not unkind, seemed distinctly worried. “I was simply checking up on you. We’ve all been worried sick about you.”

Pacifica mustered a tense smile. “You needn’t worry,” she said, briefly summoning her formal facade. “I am quite alright.”

Marie returned the smile gently. “Is there anything I can do for you, miss?

“No, I believe not,” Pacifica said. 

Marie curtsied again. “Well, miss, I won’t disturb you again. I will come and get you for supper, if you feel up to attending. Lord and Lady Northwest request your presence, but even they would be understanding if you need time to yourself tonight.” With that, Pacifica’s maid made her way to the door.

This was the last time she’d see Marie, she realized. Marie had been kind, always, brought cold things for slapped wrists and sewed up tears in dresses and kept a lot of secrets for her. Marie had been good to her, and had she ever returned the favor?

A month ago, Pacifica would not have thought much of it. But this was not a month ago, and Pacifica was not the same.

_ Mabel would do something nice for her, whether she’d been kind or not. It’s the least I can do. _

“Wait,” Pacifica said. 

Marie turned. “Miss?”

Pacifica hesitated, then spoke. “Thank you. You-- you were nice to me. I’d… I’d like you to have something.” She turned her head, looking for something, anything to show her gratitude, and her eyes fell upon her closet. Even with its large size, it was exceedingly full. She’d never wear any of those again -- the few she’d decided to bring with her were in a knapsack beneath her bed. It seemed a shame to let such pretty things go to waste.

She turned back to a perplexed Marie. “Do you have a daughter?” The maid was certainly old enough, and there was a quality about her Pacifica could only describe as motherly, although her own mother had never acted similarly.

“Yes, two. May I ask why, miss?” Marie looked more confused than ever.

“I’d like them to have some of my dresses, and you as well. Pick as many as you like. I… I will not be needing nearly so many.”

“Oh, no, miss. I couldn’t. Your dresses are so lovely -- surely you’ll want them.”

“I assure you, I will not,” Pacifica said. “I insist you take some. You might use them for the fabric, if you don’t wear them.”

“If you insist, miss,” Marie said, tentatively making her way over to the closet. Following an encouraging nod from Pacifica, she picked out three of the simplest dresses. “Thank you very much, miss. You’re kinder than you think you are, you know.”

Pacifica smiled, a real smile that time. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Marie turned to leave again, the dresses bundled in her arms. “Oh!” Pacifica said, an idea suddenly springing fully formed into her head. “Marie, I will be taking dinner in my room tonight. And,” here she lowered her voice, “please spread the word to the other staff that if they see me out and about tonight, to please not bother me. I have… plans. I have associates coming to visit -- a boy and a girl. They have brown hair and eyes, and they should not be bothered either.”

Marie’s eyebrows knit together. “Yes, Miss Northwest. Of course. But-- may I ask, will you be safe?”

“Very,” Pacifica said. “I will be in good hands.”

\-----------------------------------------

It was late at night when Pacifica was startled awake by a  _ ping  _ at her window. She jumped to her feet and ran to the sill. Sure enough, she could make out two tiny, shadowy forms far below. 

Heart hammering in her chest, she opened her window and stepped back. A split second later, a metal hook latched itself onto her windowsill with a loud  _ clang _ . Looking straight down, she could see two forms climbing with astonishing rapidity. She ran to her bed and rummaged under it for the bag. Inside, five of her plainer dresses were wrapped around as much gold and silver as she could get her hands on. If she was to be pirate, who better to steal from first than the people who’d gave her hell for seventeen years?

A tanned hand wrapped over her windowsill, then another, followed by a head of curly hair and a pair of cotton-covered shoulders.

“Heya, Paz,” Mabel grinned as she hoisted herself into the windowsill. 

“Took you long enough,” said Pacifica, unable to keep the smile off her face.

Dipper hopped through next. “Miss us much?” he asked.

“You wish,” Pacifica teased.

“Well, we missed you,” Mabel said, smiling fondly at Pacifica. “Now let's get back to the  _ Shack _ !”

“Back out the window is nixed -- I’m pretty sure we got spotted, and I’d rather not chance a run-in with any of those guards. There are a lot more, because unluckily for us, your parents don't seem to want to take chances,” said Dipper. “Do you think we could go through the main house?”

Pacifica nodded. “I know of a few back ways, and which areas to avoid. Let me grab my stuff.” She picked up her carpetbag. “Oh, hey-- I, um, I took some stuff. Silver and other things like that. Could-- could we sell that? Is that right?”

`Mabel punched her arm lightly. “Paz, you're the best! Thinking like a pirate already. We’re rubbing off on you!” Behind her, Dipper nodded to show his approval.

Pacifica laughed.  _ I’m pretty good at this, huh?  _ “Excellent! Let's go.”

She opened the door to her room as quietly as she could and peered out. The hallway was dark, all the lamps blown out. No one else could be seen to the right or the left, and every door was shut. 

Pacifica stepped out and motioned with her hand. “Follow me,” she mouthed, and advanced slowly to the right. Dipper and Mabel nodded in unison and padded behind.

As she approached the stairway, Pacifica listened for the sounds of a dinner party -- glassware clinking, the low rumble of conversation. No such luck. There was only silence.

It seemed a bad idea to go down the main stairwell, but she’d forgotten the location of the servant passage long ago. She reluctantly motioned the twins forward and began down the stairs, keeping her footsteps light and quiet. 

They stopped briefly on the sixth floor to check for others and saw a maid holding a basket of laundry. For a second, she looked alarmed. Then she made eye contact with Pacifica, dropped into a curtsy, and walked on.

“What was that about?” breathed Dipper. “Will she raise an alarm?”

Pacifica shook her head. “I told most of the staff not to bother us tonight. I don't know about the guards, but no one else will say a thing.”

“Nice going,” whispered Mabel, just a little too loud. Pacifica shushed her, but her heart was fluttering.

They proceeded similarly down to the ground floor, and there, the trio paused. The stairway connected with one directly across the room to form the grand staircase, leading into the enormous entrance hall. Five hundred feet away, the main doors opened onto the grounds, across from the gate. Across from freedom.

_ It's too late to back out now. _

_ Not that I’d want to. _

_ “ _ Isn't there another way to get onto the grounds besides the main door?” whispered Dipper.

“There are servant entrances to the grand hall between here and the door, but none of them open onto the grounds.” Pacifica craned her neck and peered around the empty room. “There! There, by the tapestry,” she said, pointing to a small, almost-hidden hallway. “It leads out onto the courtyard. We can go over or through the hedges to get out.”

Mabel opened her mouth, maybe to point out a flaw, maybe to commend her, when voices floated down from the staircase above.

“She must understand it’s important to be seen. We have a reputation to uphold, Priscilla.”

“I couldn't agree more, Preston. We’ll talk with her tomorrow.”

Pacifica’s heart fluttered and jumped up, up, up, to where it pounded in her throat. “Parents!” she mouthed at the twins. “Go!” Dipper and Mabel exchanged identical wide-eyed expressions of horror, turned on their heels, and ran. Pacifica followed.

Every slap her slippers made on the polished floors echoed around the room. Her breaths came short and quick.

At one time --  _ look behind me  _ \-- she might have bragged --  _ look ahead  _ \-- about the acoustic perfection of the hall.

Now she almost wished it would come tumbling down, if only to cover her tracks.

The space between her and the twins was widening -- it was evident who did more running. Pacifica ran harder, but the gap did not close.

Behind her, she could hear voices yelling, muffled by her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Ahead, the twins were careening into the corridor that would lead them out. Mabel turned as she entered the hallway -- opened her mouth -- reached out and screamed -- and Pacifica was yanked back by her outstretched arm.

“What,” her father said sharply, “are you doing?”

All the air had been ripped from her lungs. She felt her eyes fill, and her father’s face swam before her through a liquid fog. 

“I-- I--”

“Pacifica!” someone yelled. She turned her head slightly-- even that simple action was overwhelming. 

_ no no no how could this happen _

She could see Mabel and Dipper, down the hall, reaching out to her, scared-- there were guards pouring in at every angle.

“Pacifica, please!” Mabel’s face shone with tears. 

_ No-- _

_ this isn't happening, not real not real not--  _

One clear thought pushed through the multicolored chaos in Pacifica's brain.

_ I have to get to her. _

And so, with a strength she didn't know she had, Pacifica wrenched her arm away from her father and punched him in the nose. 

Preston fell back, hands automatically going to his nose. Pacifica looked at her hands in awe. Her knuckles were beginning to throb, but she found she didn't really care. 

She might have stood there for longer, realizing the full scope of what she had done, when a calloused hand grabbed her other arm and pulled her forward.

“Nice one, Paz!” yelled Mabel over her shoulder, not loosening her grip on Pacifica’s arm as Dipper pulled the three of them along. 

“Pacifica! Which door is it?” he called. 

“Straight ahead! We’re headed right at it!”

They skidded to a stop, almost crashing into the oak door. Mabel threw it open, and the three teenagers bolted out of the Northwest mansion.

“Now how do we get out?” Mabel panted, looking over to Pacifica. 

“Follow me!” said Pacifica breathlessly, and sprinted ahead. She’d never used so much effort in her life, but the adrenaline running through her veins kept her going as she turned right, left, left, straight ahead, through the endless maze of fountains and marble sculptures. Footsteps pattered behind her like insistent rain, and she hoped with all her heart they only belonged to Dipper and Mabel.

“There’s-- a weak spot-- in the hedge!  No-- fence-- the hedge is thick enough-- I know there’s a hole! Made it-- when I was little.” Two more rights and a jump over a small pond-- and there they were. The enormous shrubbery loomed at least ten feet high. Pacifica darted up to the hedge, searching for the empty spot.  _ No, no... _ She brushed aside a few thinner branches to find a hole, maybe three feet in diameter. “Yes!” she exclaimed aloud. Only four more feet and she’d be free! 

“Go through, now. Hurry!” she urged the twins. Dipper dived through the hole first, then Mabel, then, with a final glance behind her -- no pursuers in sight -- Pacifica.

The inside of the tunnel was smaller than she’d remembered. Branches pulled at Pacifica from every angle, fighting for handfuls of her hair and dress. She pushed through, crawling as fast as she could, and tumbled out the other side in a messy heap on the ground.

Pacifica sat up, took Mabel’s offered hand, and shakily stood.“I-- I can’t believe it! I’m out! I made it out!” She spun in a circle, taking in the stars above her, the dirt below her. The hem of her dress was absolutely shredded, and her arms were covered in mud and scratches. A bruise had begun to blossom across her right knuckles. She looked down at her filthy self -- she’d never  _ dreamed _ of being so beat up -- and laughed “I’m so  _ dirty _ ! This-- this is amazing!” 

Mabel and Dipper were watching her. Dipper looked slightly worried, but mostly like he was trying not to smile. Mabel’s grin could have stopped the world. 

Pacifica had no idea why she did it. Happiness? Adrenaline? How amazingly nice it was to be smiled at like that? A combination of the three? Whatever the reason, she propelled herself into Mabel’s arms, tangled her hands in thick brown hair, and kissed Mabel on her perfect cupid’s bow lips.

It was the best moment of her life.

Mabel was warm and soft and salt and stars and home. Pacifica’s heart thudded in her chest, fluttering like it was considering flying away. The press of Mabel’s arms on her back held her in place, toes barely touching the ground. 

Pacifica wanted that moment to last for all eternity. 

But Dipper was, once again, the shitty voice of reason. 

“Guys?” he said. “Mabel? Hellooo? I hate to break this up, but we kinda need to go, so we don’t die and stuff?”

Pacifica pulled back, breathing hard, and glared at Dipper. “Excuse you,” she said. “We’re occupied.”

Mabel giggled. “Yeah, Dipdop.  _ Occupied _ .”

“First,  _ ew _ . Second, you can be occupied later.  We are  _ criminals _ , at the scene of our  _ crime _ . We need to  _ go _ , because I, personally, don’t want to hang, and I don’t think you two do either.” Dipper finished off his rant with a pointed glare almost as good as Pacifica’s.

Mabel rolled her eyes hard. “Fine. Buuut… I want to hold Paz’s hand.”

“You don’t need my permission to be disgustingly romantic with your sort-of girlfriend! Let’s just  _ go _ !”

And with that, they were off again, Mabel and Pacifica hand in hand. 

“I’m kind of insulted,” Pacifica said as they ran. “Firstly, I don’t know where we’re going. Secondly, the sort-of girlfriend thing.”

“We’re going back to the  _ Shack,  _ silly!” said Mabel. “As for the second, would you rather be my definitely girlfriend?” She glanced back with a cheesy grin.

Pacifica could feel her face burning. “Well, I kissed you twice, didn’t I?”

Ahead of them, Dipper groaned. “Less being gross, more running, please!”

“You’re just jealous of how great we are,” Mabel countered.  “You need a datemate, bro.”

“That isn’t gonna change the fact that you guys always pick when you’re in front of me to act like this!”

“It would change your jealousy issues,” Pacifica said.

“Zing!” Mabel cheered. “Paz, you’re a natural at burning my brother!”

Pacifica tried a shrug. It was hard while running, but she managed it. “He makes it easy.”

“If I’d known this was gonna happen, I might’ve changed my mind about rescuing you,” said Dipper, but Pacifica could hear the laugh in his voice.

Til then, they had ran over dirt and grass fields. But in the distance, maybe 200 yards away, she could see a sprawling collection of small buildings and tents, and beyond that, if she squinted, the sea.

The twins began to slow their pace, and Pacifica followed suit, relieved beyond measure for a break. Her legs were beginning to ache, and she wondered if all this running was normal for pirates.

“What’s-- that in the distance?” she said, still breathing fairly hard.

“A small marketplace. It connects to the docks,” said Dipper. “The  _ Shack _ can’t stay docked for long, in case someone recognizes that we’re internationally wanted. We’ve got to hurry.” He set off at a jog. Mabel rolled her eyes and followed, and Pacifica resigned herself to a life of running.

As they made their way through the marketplace, dodging grubby children and basket-laden women, Mabel pointed out potential dates for Dipper left and right.

“What about the brown-haired girl? She looks-- oh, never mind. No one with that kind of fashion sense is dating my brother. Um… Ooh! That guy, with the spiky hair! Hello, sir! Would you--”

“Mabel! Shut up!” Dipper tried a kick at his sister’s legs, but she dodged nimbly out of the way. 

“Ooh, he’s red! Paz, are you seeing this?”

Pacifica laughed. Being here, with Dipper and especially Mabel, knocking over containers of produce, hurdling chickens -- this was something she thought she’d never be doing in a million years. Too dirty, too scandalous, too  _ fun _ . Somehow, it was perfect.

The dirt under their feet turned to wooden planks, and they passed two merchant ships before skidding up the ramp to board the  _ Shack  _ and running smack into Stan.

“Whoa there!” he said, stumbling back and taking in the three grinning and dirty teenagers. “The mission was a success, then?”

“Yup!” said Mabel, bouncing onto her tiptoes. “We rescued my beloved Paz--”

“Mabel!” hissed Pacifica, going pink.

“--with little to no incident!” she finished.

“Except, you know, when the Northwests caught us and stuff,” added Dipper.

“But Paz got ‘em! She punched her dad right in the face!”

“It was a pretty sweet right hook.”

Stan whistled. “Knocking a multimillionaire in the nose? Kid,” he said, placing a hand on Pacifica’s shoulder, “you’ll fit right in here.

Pacifica smiled, big and genuine. 

“Soos, raise the plank!” Stan called. “We’re setting sale.”

“Yipee!” Mabel cheered and grabbed Pacifica’s hands, spinning in a giddy circle. “Off we go!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you catch my little parapines reference there ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	10. X: Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THAT I ABANDONED THIS FOR SO LONG OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! I HAD EVERY INTENTION OF FINISHING IT, I JUST. DIDN'T. ANYWAY HERE'S AN EPILOGUE THAT I'M NOT QUITE HAPPY WITH BUT WANTED TO POST ANYWAY BECAUSE LIKE PACIFICA I TOO NEED CLOSURE ON THIS STORY

It has been a while since Pacifica Northwest has thought about her parents.

 

She hesitates to call them family. Parents, barely. Relatives, unfortunately. Family- that was where she stopped. For a long time, she had no idea what that was. How it felt. There was a certain connotation to the word that she balked at- the idea of love. Love? Her parents? That was laughable. 

 

Now she knows what family is. Family is Mabel’s hand in hers. Family is Dipper teaching her to steer the ship. Family is Stan calling her  _ kid _ , pretending he’s not proud of how far she's come. (He may act gruff, but she sees right through it, and she isn't afraid to let him know.) Family is nothing like the Northwests, and every day that goes by, she's happier and happier with her decision to leave. She couldn't imagine life any other way. 

 

And yet something still feels unfinished. 

 

She's lamenting this to the twins one day-- the odd lack of closure in regards to her parents. They're sitting above deck. Her head is in Mabel’s lap, and her girlfriend is braiding tiny sections of her hair. Across from her and next to Mabel, Dipper is cross-legged and staring at the gray sky. 

 

There isn't a day that goes by that Pacifica doesn't appreciate this, doesn't take a moment to smile and remind herself that this is her life from here on out. It's kind of an earth-shatteringly amazing feeling.  

 

Anyway, she’s telling the twins that she feels like the whole  _ leaving and never looking back _ wasn’t quite the right way to deal with it (it being her abusive and unbearably stuffy home). 

 

Mabel runs a hand through her hair and asks if she wants to smash eggs all over her parent’s mansion, because revenge is very therapeutic and it would be hilarious besides. 

 

Dipper snorts and adds that Stan’s got some stashed away in the kitchen that’ve been expired since before the twins joined the crew. Probably since before the twins were born, actually. So if revenge is what she's going for, that option is  _ definitely _ open. 

 

Pacifica laughs. Revenge sounds good, honestly. (She never was good at being the bigger person and moving on, anyway.) But she’s pretty sure the chances of them getting close enough to the Northwest mansion to egg it are about 0, and she wants to do something more meaningful anyway. 

 

Like what? Dipper asks. Yeah, Paz, Mabel chirps. Got any brilliant ideas?

 

Actually, she says, as an idea forms in her head and a smile blooms on her face, she does.

 

* * *

 

It had been a while since Preston Northwest had thought about his daughter. 

 

After the confusion of that night so many years ago, she had just- disappeared. Of course they could have found her. The Northwests had the money to hire anyone they needed, do anything they wanted. But saying your only daughter was killed by pirates elicits a lot of sympathy, which was far more helpful than the ingrate herself. She’d made the choice to run off. If Pacifica wanted to leave so badly, fine. It wasn't like she couldn't be replaced. There were plenty of orphaned children in the city. Plenty of empty slates. 

 

Since that day, he’s shoved all thoughts of his daughter out of his mind. It hasn't been hard.

 

On one especially overcast morning, he’s standing at the rails of his biggest ship, looking appropriately regal as he surveys the water below. Something about the grayish blue is familiar. Almost like her eyes, maybe. (She would have been prettier if they were green anyway.)

 

Behind him, there's the stamping of boots on the wooden deck, and he can't help but feel annoyed. This is his time, damn it. But he turns anyway and nods his head regally at the man before him. 

 

“Lord Northwest, sir,” says the captain of the vessel. “There's a ship nearby that’s flying our colors. It looks to not be moving.”

 

“Hmph,” says Preston. “Does it have the purple stitching?” Only true Northwest ships have purple embroidery on their flags-- it lets them tell fakes apart instantly. Most commoners are too poor to emulate it, and only those in the Northwests’ innermost circle know about the tiny purple stitches around the gauntlets in the center of their flag. 

 

“Aye, sir, I’m reasonably certain it does,” says the captain. He’s an old man- been working for their family for years. Preston doesn't trust many people, but the captain has never steered him wrong before. 

 

“Pull us closer, then,” he orders, and holds a hand up to test for raindrops. 

 

The captain mimics his action. “I believe there's a storm coming in, sir,” he says. 

 

A single drop splashes onto Preston’s outstretched hand. “So there is.”

 

As they get closer to the other ship, Preston gets more and more suspicious. He prides himself on his knowledge of his very extensive (and expensive) fleet, and he doesn't recognize it at all. 

 

But they’re close enough. By the time the cannon shot rings out, it’s too late. 

He knows what’s happening.

 

He knows what’s happening, and he has a plan for this. He’ll be the first off the ship and into the lifeboats. There’ll be several decoys. Most of his crew will die, but the important thing is, he’ll be alive at the end of this.

 

Behind him, he can hear the crew rushing to help him. He turns to see the captain of the vessel, looking paler than Preston has ever seen him. 

 

“Sir,” he says. “It’s the--” 

 

He never gets to finish his sentence. 

 

A shot rings out, and the captain staggers and falls. 

 

The sound of the crew coming to help him, that reassuring thundering of steps, stops abruptly. 

 

Preston swivels wildly to the other ship. It’s a hundred feet away easily, and the shot went clean through the captain’s head. He looks down at the dead man on his deck, at the blood staining the wood, and back up to the other ship. 

 

He raises his hands in surrender. 

 

Preston can practically hear the laughing, raucous cackling echoing across the water. Ropes fly out, and the hooks on the end sink their barbs into the beautiful wood of his boat. Slowly, his ship is pulled ever closer to the other, inching through the water. 

 

He’s close enough to see them now, the pirates that will be his doom. The crew looks… young, actually. If he had to guess, he’d say most are in their teens. Two of them, brown-haired and similar in appearance, are almost familiar. His eyes dart rapidly from person to person. Who fired the shot that killed his captain, he wonders?

 

The gap is small enough to jump now, but no one makes a move. They seem to be waiting for something. 

 

He feels one drop of water hit his face. Then another. 

 

Their ships touch. A cheer rises from the crowd, and they part as if to let someone through. 

 

And as the rain starts to pour down, a woman takes two confident steps onto the deck of his clipper, then stops. Looks him over. And smiles. 

 

A chill runs down his spine. It can't be. It isn't. There's no way.

 

Pacifica Elise Northwest stands on the deck of his ship, a pistol in each hand. One is pointed at the ground. The other is pointed at his head. 

 

“A pleasure to see you again, Father,” she says, and laughs. 


End file.
